


Hiding From the Light

by Quantum_Witch



Series: Kingmaker 'verse [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger, Angst and Humor, Denial, Gen, Grief, M/M, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-26
Updated: 2011-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 05:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Witch/pseuds/Quantum_Witch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bottle of whiskey is a better friend than a non-existent God, and Dean makes that sentiment well known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding From the Light

**Author's Note:**

> _Previously titled: "A Compass For the Turn"  
>  New title comes from the song ["Living on a Memory"](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Alannah_Myles:Livin%27_On_A_Memory) by Alannah Myles. It was much more appropriate._
> 
>  
> 
> Time stamp between ["Use Your Illusions"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/201573) and ["Somewhere to Elsewhere"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/259331). Takes place during ["Can't See, Eyes Open Wide".](http://archiveofourown.org/works/259575)
> 
> Thanks always to [wanderamaranth](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderamaranth/pseuds/wanderamaranth) for input and support. :)

"Hi, my name is Dean…"

"Hi, Dean!" Eighteen people replied cheerily.

"And I'm an alcoholic."

Dean stopped and stared at the ceiling of the dingy diner's back room which served as the meeting place for the Sioux Falls chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous. He could hear the air conditioning laboring in the late August heat, its unsuccessful attempt to cool only succeeding in making him more uncomfortable. He was in no goddamned mood for this.

"I'm an alcoholic," he repeated, "and I'm proud of it. The only reason I'm here is to shut my damned brother up because he's been whining like a little bitch for a week and he's big enough to carry out his threats to lock me in a basement until I dry out the hard way." He glared at Sam, who sat looking very ill at ease beside him. "As if he's one to talk about drying out…"

"Dean," Sam whispered urgently. "This is for your own good."

"So you keep saying. I know it's a load of sh—"

"Well, uh, it's nice to meet you, Dean," the leader of the group – Bill, his name tag read – cleared his throat. "We all came to this place in our own ways, and not all of us came willingly at first. So we understand your anger—"

Dean barked a laugh, but sat down when Sam jerked on his sleeve.

"Anyway, uh, let's move on then." Bill nodded to another man, who opened an obviously well-worn book with coffee stains on the cover. "Jason, would you read the Twelve Steps for us?"

Sam whispered at Dean, "They do this at the start of every meeting, to get themselves prepped for discussions." Dean just grumbled incoherently.

"Step One," Jason was saying, "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable."

Dean clenched his jaw tightly.

"Two: We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity—"

"That's it." Dean stood up. "Sam, I am out of here."

Sam hissed, "No you are not. You're gonna listen to this, and then you're gonna make an effort. _Sit_."

Like a dog whose master had commanded, Dean found himself sitting back down, unable to lift his ass off the chair. Goddamn it, Sam was using his newfound powers again. "You bastard."

"Uh," Jason fumbled then went on. "Three: We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand Him."

"I understand God to be a complete dick," Dean snarled softly. All heads turned toward him, some in shock, others with a touch of anger.

Sam twitched. "Ah, he's, ah, been through some rough stuff lately…" Dean watched as his brother gave an anemic smile to the group as he pushed his power at Dean's mouth, clamping his jaw shut. Dean gave him a glare of pure hatred.

Jason continued. "Four: We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves." Everyone tensed in preparation for another outburst, but none came as Dean was being silenced forcibly. "Five: We admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs."

Dean was struggling against Sam's hold on him to speak but could only sneer.

"Six: We were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. Seven: We humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings."

Sam held on as hard as he possibly could with Dean fighting every inch. Dean managed to mutter loud enough to be heard by the nearest people, "You honestly believe God gives a fuck, let alone that He's gonna just fix your problems because you ask Him to?"

"Eight: We made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all. Nine: We made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others."

Dean stopped fighting and went very still. Sam knew Dean was really thinking hard now, about every person he'd known, or worse, every soul in Hell he'd tortured. It would take more lifetimes than anyone could give him to fulfill those steps.

"Ten: We continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it."

Sam could sense the powerful scoff that followed those words. He knew well how Dean thought himself right all the time, until he felt guilty over something then he was always wrong. And Dean… he was the king of guilt. So taking inventory would last another lifetime.

"Eleven: We sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understand Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out."

There was no power on earth that could hold Dean. He broke free, stood up so fast his chair toppled back, and laughed.

"If I had to listen to one more damned command from heaven telling me that I was destined to save the fucking world, I'd just let it burn this time. God has done jackshit for me or anyone else in this room. You poor deluded bastards." Just as it was clear that he would be interrupted, Dean said, "Okay, I see your little Steps on that poster, so I'll save you the trouble. _'Twelve: Had a spiritual awakening and carried this message to other alcoholics'._ Well, how about this? I'm _awake_ now and I'd love to buy you all a drink. I'll be in the Shady Lady Lounge across town, getting shitfaced and watching strippers."

He stormed from the room before anyone had the chance to tell him he was no longer welcome. Sam followed like an embarrassed puppy.

~ END


End file.
